


New Year, New Everything

by realjane



Series: Relentless (Hogwarts Era series) [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, New Year's Eve, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realjane/pseuds/realjane
Summary: Hermione invites Draco to be her date to the New Year's Eve ball, but he's late.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Relentless (Hogwarts Era series) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081031
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	New Year, New Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Part 4 of my Relentless series! Happy Happy New Year, my friends.

“You’ll have to be patient!” Hermione nudged Katie Bell away from the mirror so she could accurately paint the upper bow of her lip in burgundy. “You’ll see.”

“I still don’t believe you have a date,” Ginny said wistfully. She clutched her hands over her heart, anyway.

Katie snorted. “Is he tall?”

“Yes,” Hermione laughed. 

“And he’s definitely going to show up?”

“For gods’ sake!” She turned to the gaggle of girls who had gathered in the tiny ensuite bathroom in the eighth-year girls dorm and put her hands on her hips. “It’s a surprise.”

She waltzed herself out, between Lavender and Katie, and stood before the full-length mirror.  _ He better show up,  _ she thought. He hadn’t confirmed one way or another. In fact, when she had asked him to be her date, he had spat water out his nose. 

And then she had said, “only if you  _ want,  _ you don’t have to.” 

And he had said, “I’ll think about it.” 

And she had said, “if it takes you that long to decide if you want to be seen with me in public, then just forget it,” and then she had… stormed off. 

So. Succumbing to the needling from her fellow Gryffindors, she had cautiously circulated the idea that she was bringing a ‘surprise date’ to the New Year’s ball. If he didn’t show, then… surprise!  _ I’m my own date, aren’t I clever and independent? I’ll kiss myself at midnight, ha-ha! _ And then promptly duck out  _ before  _ midnight and never show her face in the company of her friends again.

And if he did show up… what, then? She hadn’t even given him any particulars. Would he show up at the door? Would he meet her in the hallway? Would they dance, or just stand off to the side, or would he convince her to go up to the Astronomy tower and ring in the new year under the clear night sky?

Shit. Her nerves hit maximum pitch, but she affixed the jeweled comb on one side of her carefully coiffed hair, which hung in languid waves down her back. The dress was velvet--she had saved every penny of her allowance over the summer for an emergency, and then promptly blew it on the most expensive item of clothing she had ever worn on her body, because  _ if _ he showed up, he’d look good. She’d have to be radiant to look worthy of Malfoy money, or he’d only be mortified by her. This was good, though… wasn’t it?

Deep blue velvet, as dark as it could be without turning coal, and flecked at the hem with gold embroidered stars. The gown fell off her shoulders, and dripped like water from her hips. It was sinful to wear and moved like heaven when she swished.

If nothing else--if Draco Malfoy left her feeling like a total fool… she felt magnificent. 

At nine-thirty, she stepped out of the portrait hole with her fellow Gryffindor girls, some of whom had elected to just go together in a single’s horde. Harry took Ginny on his elbow as usual, and Ron was stag, for now. Hermione had happened to overhear Lavender gasp when he appeared in a new set of dress robes, and she willed him courage to do something about that mutual crush. Her surprise date was nowhere to be seen. Hermione steeled herself for that to be her reality. She straightened her spine, took Luna’s arm when she appeared, and gave in to the giddy joy being shared by the others. 

They hadn’t had a real school bash in a long time. This ball was a trial--no Yule ball, nobody was sent home for the holidays other than a long weekend surrounding Christmas, and the new semester system ended on the twenty-ninth, so… it was a good opportunity to let go of old expectations after grueling finals. 

The Great Hall glistened with gold and silver, and candlelight shone from every reflective surface. It was very difficult not to lose one’s jaw in awe. The faculty had put in for some wizard orchestra, who played asynchronous and haunting music while the hall filled with students in their finest robes. 

_ He _ was nowhere to be seen. 

She sighed, sagging into Luna’s side as the doors were shut. The music switched into peppier, melodious tunes, and the party began. She didn’t feel like dancing. She felt a bit… heartbroken. Still, Luna tugged her into a circle of her most favorite people; Neville bent over and kissed Luna’s cheek, Harry and Ginny hopped in grasping hands to pull others to dance, and Ron stood very still beside Lavender as she wiggled her hips. It was something to behold. 

Hermione let Ginny twirl her, and gave over to the raucous mood; even in finery, teenagers were still fundamentally in need of some joy. Hair was tied back, sleeves rolled up, shoes toed off… the longer the dancing went on, the less decorous the outfits became. Hardly a long face to be seen in the crowd. Even Hermione found herself smiling.

The clock struck eleven before it had any right; a late-night snack was produced on a buffet table, which contained mostly sugary baked goods. Faculty distributed flutes of non-alcoholic champagne amongst the students who cared (and more than one flask was concealed beneath a cloak to remedy the spirit of the spirits). Hermione indulged in a hearty sip, letting the bubbles sparkle on her tongue pleasantly. Ginny clinked their glasses together. Then, the red-head froze. Her eyes widened. 

_ “You okay?” _ Hermione shouted over the music. Ginny nodded curtly. Ron stepped up beside her, and he too was agape. Hermione frowned and turned.

In the entryway of the Great Hall, which had been flung open again to allow for cool air, stood a very tall fellow. He had white-blond hair, which tended towards silver in the low light, and he looked… askew. His white button-down shirt was half untucked, his tie was nowhere to be found, and his sleeves were rolled up hastily to his elbows--not folded to spare the starched fabric, but rucked and tucked for Merlin. He was searching, looking this way and that. He looked like hell, certainly not like he wanted to be there... But he came.

Hermione pushed through the students before her, shoving her glass into a random hand, but it proved difficult to make her way across the dance floor. She was short without her shoes, if she didn’t hold up the hem of her dress it would be trampled, and she didn’t have a wand to subtly shield herself from the shoulders and elbows of taller students. She sighed heavily as someone backed into her. They whirled around in surprise.

“Neville!” She grasped his sleeve desperately. “I need help getting through.” He frowned at her, but she pointed at the only reason she could have for needing to hasten out of the ball so close to midnight. His eyes lit up in recognition of what needed to be done.

He flicked his wrist and his wand slid out of his sleeve, into his palm. Hermione blinked at the suave move. Neville pressed his wand to his throat.

“Everyone  _ move!” _

The music stopped. The crowd turned to look at the sonorous boy, who simply smiled down at Hermione. She was bright red, and completely mortified, but… the students parted as Neville signaled with his hands to do so. The discombobulated blond, who had clearly turned to leave, was frozen just outside the Great Hall.

“Thanks, Neville,” she peeped.

“Anything for you, Hermione.” He crossed his arms and nodded towards her intended destination.

Hermione swallowed hard. She padded through the silent hall, in the space Neville had made for her. The entire student body watched. It took ten years off her life, but she soldiered on, until she was within a few yards of him. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders hunched.

“You… you can’t leave before midnight,” she said brightly. Her hands shook. She worried the fabric of her skirt to still them.

His shoulders vibrated under a nervous laugh. He looked at her over his shoulder. “Can’t I?” The sight of her hit him like a ton of bricks. His hands fell from his pockets, and he swept one over his face, pausing at his mouth. “Merlin.”

“Yeah?” She wiggled her toes, and let the skirt fall so he could get the full effect. She blushed when he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“So… you came after all,” she said softly. She let herself smile with the bliss of that statement, to be proven wrong after all, even if he wasn’t in his dress robes, and even if he was two hours tardy… he still came.

Draco stepped forward tentatively. “A bit late.”

“You usually are. Not quite the fop I expected.” She raised an eyebrow and nodded to his untucked shirt. He remedied the state of it as best as he could, while simultaneously rolling his eyes. “Better."

Against his nature, he let her ribbing land. He smiled at the ground. “A bit underdressed, I admit. But. Can’t be best-dressed every time.” He gestured to all of her, from head to toe. “You can have this one. I’ll take the next.”

“You’ll stay?” She held out her hands to him. A murmur arose in the crowd, whom she had entirely forgotten was there. She couldn’t be arsed to care. As long as he took her hands. “Please?”

He carded a hand through his hair. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Granger.”

“Don’t I?” She took measured, small steps towards him. “I asked you to come as my date because... I want other people to know it, too. You have to make peace with being… looked at. With being talked about. With putting yourself out there to look foolish because the reward is worth the risk. I am willing to put secrecy to bed. I don’t care if you think I’m stupid--in fact, I know you do--”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, but Hermione reached him then. She pulled his hand from his face. She raised it to her cheek. His fingers, magnetized as they were to her skin, curled around her nape.

“Choose me. Kiss me. We’ll face the rest tomorrow.” 

Draco’s free hand found her other cheek. He leveled his eyes with hers. “I’ll get you for this,” he whispered. “Outing us to the entire school.”

“When you mete out your punishment, remember that I  _ couldn’t care less _ what they think.” Hermione smoothed the front of his shirt and took his lapels in her claws. 

She had to stand on her tip-toes, but she slotted her lips in the cradle of his. His mouth moved like forgiveness; he took his time in laboring with her upper lip, drawing it in the way which always invited her tongue to follow. It was possessive, his kiss, and a little too short, but it was the only kind of apology she would accept. It ended much sooner than she would’ve liked, but he offered her his elbow. She took it. 

Standing tall, in his wrinkled school uniform, Draco led her down the path carved in a forest of pining, gobsmacked faces, to the center of the Great Hall. He looked at nobody but her. Hermione kept her gaze affixed only in the direction of her group of friends, worry filling her about how they would react, but… Neville had his arms wrapped around Luna. Ginny laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. Ron pecked a tentative kiss on Lavender’s cheek. More or less… they looked happy.

Draco slipped his arm around Hermione’s waist and took her hand--it immediately sent her memories back to the Yule ball fourth year, when she had had to learn to waltz with Victor. Then, the music struck up. The room filled with agog conversations, and Hermione was sharply pulled back into her current reality: standing in Draco Malfoy’s arms, while the entire school chattered about them.

“It’s bad enough that they’re all staring,” Hermione murmured, “but you’re going to make me  _ dance, _ too?”

“I told you.  _ Retribution, _ Granger.” He laughed, deep and rumbly when she wrinkled her nose at him. “Stand on my feet. It’ll save your hem.”

In order to do so, she had to press her chest to his, but that seemed to satisfy him greatly. He held their clasped hands between them, against his heart. They just swayed. Even though she had no doubt that he could waltz or foxtrot with the best of them, he didn’t attempt such footwork with her. He bore into her with a heady stare, which bordered on threatening.

“Are you mad?” She rubbed his nape.

“Furious,” he said drolly. “How dare you, I’m mortified, my father will… you know the rest, etcetera, etcetera.” Draco brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “Honestly… I almost didn’t come.”

She smiled sadly. “I know--” 

_ “But then…” _ He sighed heavily. “I thought about the look on your face when you met me somewhere secret, tomorrow. You’d be… sanguine, but reserved. You’d punish me with sweetness and make me hate myself, just by being bloody  _ understanding. _ You already make me crazy by being right, but then you’d have some kind of… superiority of emotional intellect, of knowing me better than I know myself, and--Granger, the day that I don’t own how I feel, I expect you to remind me of this moment.”

Hermione took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “How do you feel?”

From the tallest spire of the castle, where the bell nested behind a clock so large that the changing minute hand disrupted any bird which tried to perch there, the great smelted thing rang. Midnight. 

He inclined his head. She touched his mouth and stopped him. He raised an eyebrow, but she stepped off his shoes. She hiked her skirt up enough to walk. Draco got the message.

Through the throng of kissing teenagers, and the faculty who attempted to intervene in the more familiar embraces, the fallen Slytherin led his date. This time, nobody watched them, or whispered. No one took any notice. Four chimes, five, six, seven.

Midnight struck twelve.

They slipped out of the Great Hall--at one point, Draco brushed her fingers against his lips--but they did not kiss again until sometime after two am, after sitting at the top of the Astronomy tower and being properly aghast  _ together _ that the entirety of Hogwarts now knew about the bond that had only belonged to them. He told her how he felt, with as specific a language as he could muster. It involved a lot of  _ not _ talking.

He walked her back to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and mortified the painting with an embrace far more closely resembling a snog. She asked him to meet her there before breakfast. He took her bejeweled comb as a trophy. 

When she finally slumped into bed in her pyjamas, after answering a flurry of exhaustive questions from her roommates, Hermione was pulled into the embrace of sleep by the comforting knowledge that… her house mates ultimately didn’t care. Of course they  _ cared, _ enough to ask the particulars, but they weren’t out to riot about it. If she and Draco didn’t have to hide, to meet in unguarded locations and pretend like they didn’t prefer each other’s company to any other… imagine the richness of their days going forward.

New year, new everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Join me on Tumblr to chat at TheSuperJane. :)


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